The Final Sacrifice: Book 7 of The Redemption

By Clyde B Northrup

Klare has been restored to life, but in the process, Delgart has wandered off in the company of a heretofore unknown traitor; Klaybear and Thal’s bodies have been recovered from the space in between space and time, but their minds are gone, and where they have gone, we do not yet know; the reclusive vedi race has broken its long isolation to aid the people of the land because of the appearance of ‘white ponkolum’, or servants of Gar who have renounced him and joined the chosen in service to The One. Battle is coming, the final battle to decide the fate of the world; the remaining chosen must gather the survivors to the newly restored city of Shigmar, and prepare to face the final assault of the forces of Gar.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Clyde B Northrup
• Release date: Dec 8, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310971143

Clyde B Northrup

Who am I?–a question I often ask myself, without ever coming up with a satisfactory answer: am I just a husband, father, professor, scholar, writer, poet, or some combination that changes from moment to moment, depending on the day, and time of day. . . . Nah, not really–but it is an intriguing way to begin–kind of mysterious and tormented, with a hint of instability that promotes empathy in the reader, and lets all of you know that I am a professor of English, down to my bones, and I cannot help but play around with language. My areas of specialty are 19th-20th century British Literature, the novel, Tolkien & fantasy; my dissertation was on Tolkien’s 1939 lecture “On Fairy-stories” in which he created a framework, as I discovered, for the epic fantasy that I used to critique several modern/contemporary works of fantasy, including Tolkien’s. I have taught at the university level for 14 years. My wife, of 30+ years, is an elementary school teacher.As a poet, I am much like Wordsworth, while as a novelist, I am more like his pal Coleridge, both of which illustrate the influence of my education and areas of expertise. My poems are predominantly narrative in nature, reflecting, no doubt, the overwhelming impulse to tell a story, using the compact, compressed form of the poem to narrate significant moments in the daily life of the poet. As a novelist, my biggest influence is Tolkien, flowing out of my study of his ideas for what he called a “fairy-story” for adults, what we term epic fantasy.

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The Final Sacrifice

Book 7 of The Redemption

By Clyde B. Northrup

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2013 Clyde B. Northrup.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

To B. W.–without whose criticism and advice, this story would not exist in its present form. . . .

Table of Contents

Author’s Preface

Prophecy of the Chosen

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Epilogue: Ten Generations Later

Glossary

Dictionary

Fokortheku: Book of Ortheks

Maps

About the Author

Author’s Preface

The journey that lead to this final book in The Redemption series has been a long and difficult one, with many twists, turns, and setbacks that no one could have foreseen when I began to write it nearly thirty years ago. I had the end in mind, an end which the reader will soon discover, as also the titanic battle between the kortexi, Sir Blakstar, and some fiendish champion, a battle all of the kortexi order had looked forward to and dreamed about, but the nature and form of this kortexi nemesis were completely obscured, not becoming clear until I was finishing the draft of the sixth book. I was, more often than not, surprised by the details of the emerging story, which often forced me to revise the first book to fit with these new details. I agree with J.R.R. Tolkien’s oft quoted declaration that the story grew in the telling, and have found it to be more true than is possible to convey in mere words. This tale has grown as I have struggled to tell it, and grown in ways I could not have imagined back when I began.

Many years ago, a conversation took place in a dorm room on the west edge of BYU’s campus, a conversation in which one of the participants posited the idea that the stories we read all play themselves out in some other world, in another universe, that what the storytellers do is tune-in, somehow, to these very different worlds, learn the ‘rules’, and then retell the stories to the readers of this world. Or, perhaps, the act of telling the stories brings these worlds to life in a different dimensional reality of the multiverse, although at the time the term ‘multiverse’ had not been coined, except in obscure corners where theoretical physicists grappled with the radically changing landscape of sub-atomic physics. We had no idea then the implications of what we discussed, nor any clue that similar conversations had taken place long before: Tolkien, C.S. Lewis, Owen Barfield, and other ‘Inklings’ had many similar discussions about myth and story, one famous conversation leading to the atheist, Lewis, converting back to Christianity.

Not long after this conversation occurred, I wrote, for a college writing course, a series of paragraphs that told a simple story, using the characters my brothers & I had created playing a famous RPG in one of the most frightening adventure modules; I described, defined, and narrated these characters’ first approach to the fiend’s lair, a lonely hill in the middle of a swamp, the hill shaped like a grinning skull. The graduate assistant teaching the course was so taken by the story that she forgot the purpose of the assignment, or so she told me. It is too bad that I did not get the hint then, for what I had written would later become, in a much altered form, the climax of Xythrax’s End, the fifth book in this epic series. How little did I realize then the juggernaut that I had set loose, only completed with this final book in the series!

Some readers may wonder if there will be other series with this world as the setting, and I would answer, yes . . . , if I’m spared and have the strength to continue. As the reader will discover on finishing this final chapter in the tale, there are other stories to tell, other villains waiting in the wings, but first, we are currently drafting, in collaboration with another storyteller, a fantasy trilogy–not an epic, but what we might call ‘low fantasy’, more loose, more comical, and more ‘generic’ but no less interesting. . . .

Klare has been restored to life, but in the process, Delgart has wandered off in the company of a heretofore unknown traitor; Klaybear and Thal’s bodies have been recovered from the space in between space and time, but their minds are gone, and where they have gone, we do not yet know; the reclusive vedi race has broken its long isolation to aid the people of the land because of the appearance of ‘white ponkolum’, or servants of Gar who have renounced him and joined the chosen in service to The One. Battle is coming, the final battle to decide the fate of the world; the remaining chosen must gather the survivors to the newly restored city of Shigmar, and prepare to face the final assault of the forces of Gar. Thus, The Final Sacrifice begins. . . .

We acknowledge the help of the many who read and critiqued the drafts of this book, with special thanks to all those who continue to purchase and read our books. Finally, I must acknowledge the great debt I owe to my sweetheart, who has waited longer than anyone else for the conclusion of this story. . . .

Clyde B. Northrup

October 2013

Prophecy of the Chosen

At the center of the ages come those chosen of the One, they who will end Gar’s dominion; two from my own order: one more powerful than all others, doubled of another; one who opens the forbidden way, sprung from my home; one from Karble, myth reborn, dear to the people, bearing the living waters; one from Melbarth, fire of logic burning in his mind; three from the new order, one king, one queen, mirroring each other, one aperu slayer, sacrifice for another; and the cunning mouse, who penetrates all secrets; all maimed and marked by the burden of their choosing.

Darkness and evil go with them, light guides them, rumor precedes them, destruction and disturbance follow them; choose to aid them to suffer, choose to oppose them to die. . . .

Prophecy of Shigmar

Prologue

The following excerpt is from Lectures of the Headmasters, Shigmar Volume, and deals with the time before our world was formed, although its style suggests someone after Shigmar wrote it and added it to the work noted above. Others feel that it could have been written by Shigmar at a very early date, which would lend authenticity to this myth of creation. Regarding the source of this myth, we have no information; if it was written by Shigmar early in his tenure as Headmaster, he never shared the source with anyone, and no mention of it is found in any other writing of the Founders. However, Sedra Thalamar has claimed that he read something by Melbarth that included a reference to this work, but he was unable to find his source–another of the many records lost in the cataclysms of the Great Year.

Headmaster Klaybear

Atno 3543

We lived before creation in Great God’s presence, on the world called The Great Globe, a clear white sphere filled with light. We were the children of His thought and the light filling our first home. We gave utterance to the thoughts that were in us by singing without language, for there was no other language but music in the beginning. Each voice of our infinite number expressed the thoughts of Great God, given to each by our formation in His thoughts and the light of our Mother. Some voices soared high, flying in the expanse of the Void surrounding our first home, carrying light to sparkle in the empty heavens. Others were soft, soothing voices, flowing around our first home, weaving light with the smooth flows of their voices. These offspring of Great God’s thought became by choice female, voices of air and water. Still other voices sank deep into the globe of our first home, rumbling through the depths, shaking the surface beneath our feet. These offspring of Great God’s thought became by choice male, voices of earth. The rumbling of our first home altered the flows of air in the heavens, causing winds to blow, and where the voices of air and water combined, water was lifted by air and fell back upon the shuddering globe as rain that formed streams and rivers flowing across the face of our first home, gathering and returning to the seas from which it had been lifted. And Great God smiled.

Our voices increased in volume, sending the light higher, water rising and falling more quickly, the ground beneath our feet shaking more vigorously, surface of the sea troubled, waves rising higher, winds more furious, whipping more water higher in the air, creating music all its own. The vigorous rumblings of the earth voices raised mountains and sank valleys in the surface of our globe, both formed of clear, light-filled crystal, mountains that interrupted the flows of air and water, valleys collected more of the flowing water, creating great lakes and wide rivers, and in the heavens, more stars and planets shone bright against the Void. Great God smiled again and raised his hands for silence. Our voices ceased but the music and motion we had caused upon our globe continued for a time, and for a time we watched, filled with awe at what our voices had created. An age passed while we sang; an age passed while we watched the awful consequences of our singing, but our mother globe and father light were perfect, returning to their prior perfection: stars fell, water flowed back into light, the surface of the globe smoothed and returned to her perfect shape, the Void again empty, and silence returned. For another age we pondered in silence what our voices had wrought, and Great God smiled, knowing all our thoughts and our awestruck wonder at what we had witnessed.

When the age of silent meditation passed, Great God spoke: A good start, my children; you have learned the power of your voices: what might you achieve if you combined your voices?

New thought and new wonder filled our minds, and we mingled with each other, finding those whose new thoughts were similar. But there were some who were not filled with wonder at our creations; instead, they were filled with pride at what they had accomplished, each believing that he, himself, or she, herself, had wrought the beauty alone. These refused to collaborate with us, thinking to find the secret power that must lie behind the beauty. The males of this group, led by one called Elker, dove into our globe, seeking the source of its power. The females, led by one called Guengle, were fascinated by the Void, soaring into its emptiness to discover its secrets. And Great God saw them both, all their thoughts, all the pride that filled them, laid bare to His keen sight, and Great God frowned. We did not see them leave, nor did we see Great God frown, only the foremost among us, one called Elos, saw them leave and saw Great God frown.

Elker and his followers descended into the heart of our globe, and the light grew brighter and hotter. They were all singed by the heat, a thing none of us had known until they dared to descend. The heat grew, burning them black, changing their appearance forever. The weakest fell away first, unable to endure the heat, and the deeper the strongest went, the darker they became, their forms melting, becoming part of the fires that burned at the heart of our globe. Only Elker reached the center, and the agony of his burning never left him, but the ecstasy of his discovery–the living fire–filled him with pride and desire. He returned and gathered his followers, berating them for their weakness, showing them his secret, instructing them to dissemble themselves before us and Great God, waiting for the right moment to act. Some were shamed by his words, shamed by their rebellion against our Father and Mother. They left Elker’s company, some of them repenting and begging forgiveness of Great God, which He freely granted, while a few of them ascended into the Void, allowing themselves to be frozen, shattering and becoming part of the Void, the first of Great God’s children to cease to exist. And a red tear fell from Great God’s left eye, boiling away before rolling down His cheek.

Elker and his followers re-clothed themselves in light and returned to our company. But they looked, to our eyes, not as bright as before, the light subdued by the blackness of their hearts and minds.

At the same time, Guengle and her followers ascended into the Void, also seeking secret power and knowledge. They were assailed by emptiness and cold, a cold fire that burned, an emptiness that consumed. Color drained from them, and they turned empty white, and the further they traveled into the Void, the emptier and whiter they became, and like the males who rebelled, the weakest stopped first, the strongest continued, and only Guengle reached the heart of the Void and returned, heart and mind forever frozen, empty of all warmth and feeling, but filled with pride and desire. They too, dissembled themselves before us and Great God, hiding their secret and saving it for a better moment. Some were shamed by her words and their rebellion against our Father and Mother, and they, too, left Guengle’s company, some of them repenting and begging forgiveness of Great God, which He freely granted, while a few of them ascended into the Void, allowing themselves to be unmade. And a blue tear fell from Great God’s right eye, freezing and shattering before it rolled down his cheek.

Guengle and her followers re-clothed themselves in light and returned to our company. But they looked not as bright to our eyes as before, the light paled by the white emptiness of their hearts and minds.

Both groups returned to our company at the same time, and we had not been idle in their absence, learning that by combining our voices new forms were made. By combining earth and water, new things sprouted from the globe, their forms according to each pair’s combined thought. When the voices of air were added, these new forms grew, some reaching for the sky above, some producing vibrant colors–trees, flowers, grass, and bushes sprouted across our globe as we sang in harmony, growing and multiplying as our wonder and awe grew.

At the moment of our greatest wonder and singing, Elker and his followers sang in their new voices of fire, burning to white ash all that we had raised. Guengle and her followers, not yet in league with Elker, sang with their new voices of cold, freezing our new creations and bursting them into white crystalline powder. We were at first stunned by the suddenness of their two discords, and let our voices fall, but Great God nodded and we raised our voices again in opposition to the rebellious discord of our brothers and sisters, opposing their voices of fire and ice with our voices of earth, water, and air. And out of the battle of our voices, new forms were created, unforeseen by any of us, least of all Elker and Guengle, whose only purpose had been to disrupt us. Out of the battles between earth and fire, earth melted and flowed, cold blasted the molten earth, creating crystals and gemstones in many new colors and shapes, some crystal clear, some hard, some pliable, some jagged and sharp, some round and smooth, all increasing the wonder and awe of our new, unforeseen creations. Water battled fire and steam rose and formed clouds, carried around our globe by air and fire created wind. Cold blasted these newly-formed clouds and rain turned to snow; cold blasted water and ice formed; cold blasted the trees and water withdrew to prevent the trees from shattering. Some trees’ leaves turned from green to brilliant reds, golds, and browns, falling to the earth and blanketing the ground with their colors. Other trees put forth more energy, creating more needles to surround the trunk in an evergreen blanket of insulation.

When these battles had proceeded for an age, Great God held up His hand for silence, and for a second age we contemplated the awful wonder of our new creations. Softly, as we were still caught in the wonder of what our battles had produced, Great God whispered, Even your rebellion has only increased the beauty and wonder of our creations.

Elker and his followers, and Guengle and her followers, flamed and frosted their respective voices in anger that they had contributed to rather than disrupted our Father’s designs for our music. We raised our voices to cover and calm them, and again, Great God raised His hand for silence; we all fell silent.

We sat for an age contemplating Great God’s words while the rebels brooded. Our globe returned as before to its perfect state, its surface smoothing, the lights falling, the flows ceasing.

Again, Great God broke the silence of our contemplation. Greater things than even these you have made are yet possible. What more can you bring to life if you further collaborate?

We again took thought and into our minds came images of things not yet imagined. We began again to give voice to our thoughts, more subtle, more concerted than before, and shapes arose on our globe, shapes that moved about the surface of our globe, some so small they could hardly be seen, others so large that their walking shook the surface; still others soared through the sky above, still others swam through the waters, all things of beauty and grace.

Elker and his followers and Guengle and her company both watched for a time, gazing at what we had created. As if by common consent, both groups took some of our forms and added both flame and frost, corrupting the new forms into creatures of their own malice, beasts that attacked and slew our creations, staining the surface of our globe red as their new beasts of fang and horn consumed the creatures of our thought. And Elker and his followers and Guengle and her followers laughed at the destruction. And Great God frowned but did not raise His hand.

We altered our singing voices and infused our creatures with defenses–hoof and horn, tooth and skin–and fewer of our creations were slain and consumed while many of theirs were slain. They started to alter their voices when Great God raised His hand for silence. We sat for an age contemplating the new wonder and thinking of new ways to protect them from Elker and Guengle’s corruptions. Great God saw all our thoughts and smiled.

When the age had passed, Great God spoke: Again, your rebellions have only increased the beauty and wonder of our creations.

Elker and his followers, and Guengle and her followers again raised their voices in anger and frustration, that they had again contributed to our designs rather than thwarting them. Again, Great God raised His hand for silence.

All your attempts to rebel will eventually rebound to enhance the greater good and increase my glory–this is the way of all things.

We sat for another age contemplating Great God’s words, trying to understand how Elker, Guengle, and their followers attempts’ to corrupt, disrupt, and destroy increased the beauty of our designs. We communed, first in small groups, later in larger groups and across our aspects, until we understood. The greatest among us, first thought of Great God, Elos, whose mind was a mirror of Great God’s, voiced our new understanding.

Father, we see that everything must have its opposite: without the darkness of the Void, the light of our globe would not shine.

And Great God smiled.

And while we contemplated, the rebels brooded, still angered by–to them–their failures. They, too, communed with each other, called a truce between their opposing aspects, and concluded that they must again dissemble their purposes before us, looking for a better time and place to wreak havoc on all that we might do. Elker spoke first.

Father, we are sorry for what we have done and wish to aid you in your work.

Guengle added her assent, speaking for her aspect.

Great God nodded. Behold! He pointed to the Void. See what your voices have wrought!

We saw all our creations–land, sea, sky; trees and plants; beast, bird, and fish–in the Void before us, a beautiful blue-green world riding on the bosom of the Void. We were again struck with awe at what we had, through our voices, created. And we saw new forms, distinct from those we created, moving across the world wrought of our thoughts and voices. And our wonder grew as we understood that these new creatures were us, when we would be clothed in mortal flesh, and the vision closed. Great God smiled at our awestruck silence. In us, desire grew–desire to give material form to what we had seen, desire to give material forms to ourselves, desire to experience mortal life.

The former rebels had different thoughts; in them grew a lust for power and dominion, a desire to rule all we had seen in our Father’s vision. And in their thoughts they remembered how their rebellions had turned to good and they remembered their frustrations. They communed together apart from us, having somehow mastered the ability to close the rest of us from their thoughts. In their communal lust for power awoke new thoughts: the way to this power could only be had through cunning and guile. We must be model children, someone said, possibly Elker or Guengle. We must dissemble ourselves and our purposes until the time is right.

And Great God spoke. My children, you must prepare yourselves to make all that you have seen. You must prepare to go down into our creation, leaving our presence to take on mortal flesh. You will experience much joy and sorrow, living and dying before returning to our presence. But even that may not be possible, as clothing yourselves in mortal flesh is perilous, and few will be able to pass the test of life without help. One of you must go down and give his or her essence to break the barrier that will separate all who go down from our presence, for once this world is made, once you decide to go down, the Void will draw you and our world into the depths of time and space, cutting you off from our home and presence, else the mortal world could not be, nor the knowledge and experiences you will gain as you pass through mortality. The cost will be great, more than you can pay alone, but the rewards–knowledge and wisdom–are greater than you can, at this time, conceptualize. Ponder these things before deciding.

Elos spoke. What is this knowledge and wisdom that we will gain should we choose this course?

Great God nodded. If you pass the test, you will join our ranks, and become like us.

Elos spoke again. Father, you are not alone?

Great God smiled. No, my son, we are legion, as great in number as the limitless Void; we are without end.

The text breaks off at this point, and when it continues, a different hand writes what follows, lending credence to our supposition that it was not written by Shigmar, but after. The use of the term ‘Great God’ did not originate with the Founders; all records from the time, if they refer to Him at all, call Him ‘Father’ or ‘The One.’ This descriptor of the One came into use at the beginning of the second millennium, persisted for several centuries, and then disappeared, reverting to ‘The One’. It is our opinion that whoever copied this text from the original, altered the text to suit his own needs, sometime between atno 1000 and atno 1500, roughly, although some argue for a later date, since the term never appears in the writings of Headmaster Sheldu or Fereghen Wulfrik.

The text continues in a different hand, and likely a different time; further, there is a gap between the previous text and where this text begins, suggesting that one or more pages might be missing, lost in the interim, or deliberately removed by persons unknown and reasons unknown. Without the missing material, it is not possible to determine which. . . .

The time soon came that Elker and Guengle and their followers could no longer hide their minds, if they ever could, and their discord became open rebellion. A battle was fought in our first home, in which Elker, Guengle, and their followers were driven from our first home. Elker would lead them all, but Guengle refused to accept his leadership, and the second battle of the heavens raged across the empty Void. This second battle differed from the first, in that we simply drove them out of our first home while they tried to annihilate each other. The fire and ice of their conflict filled the Void with flickering lights that are said still to be visible today. When only a handful remained on each side, the futility of their fight was suddenly realized; they collected all that remained and went their separate ways. For an age, there was silence in the Void.

We turned from their battle, and the silence of the Void, and took thought for how we would bring into being the things we had created in the song of our vision. When the age of silence had passed, Great God nodded, and we went into the Void to begin our labors. Each sang the song of his or her aspect, beginning with earth, a low, rumbling song of foundations, followed by the flowing middle harmony of water, culminating with the high, soaring voices of air. In the Void before us coalesced the forces that we sang, but they were three separate spheres of earth, water, and air. We then began the intermingling of these forces by the interweaving of our voices, some earth singing with air, some with water, some alone; some water with air, some water alone, and some air alone. And the mingling of our voices caused the mingling of the forces in their separate masses before us: air raised earth and water to the heights, making mountains and rain; water flowed down the mountains, carving them into new forms, cascading down and mixing with air, pooling to form lakes and oceans whipped into whitecaps by the movement of air. Thus the world of our second home was formed and we contemplated what we had created, ceasing to sing. Mountains stopped growing, water collected into lakes and oceans, and the wind ceased to blow. All was silent. The renewal of our singing restarted the motions on our new world of earth, water, and air, but no blending or alteration in our song altered the motions established or created the new forms we had seen in our vision. Our voices trailed away into silence; we returned after a time to our first home to ask Great God why.

Great God nodded and replied, Something is missing.

What? we asked.

Watch, He said, pointing into the Void where our new world rested.

We turned to observe, and waited, as we had been taught, watching for what might happen.

Elker was the first to notice our work, and the first to try and destroy it. He and his few remaining followers tried to burn our new world, but they were too few and could only melt some mountains, turn some water to steam, and had little effect on air, only warming it, causing it to rise and move. Frustrated in their efforts to destroy our new world, Elker and his followers dove into our new globe, descending to the center and thinking they could destroy it from within, but again, they were too few, only succeeding in melting our new world’s core, their fires setting the new world into motion.

At this point, Guengle discovered our new world, and with her followers, who outnumbered Elker’s by ten to one, also tried to destroy it, lashing it with frost. Although greater in number, they only succeeded in freezing the mountains Elker melted, freezing the steam, turning it to snow and ice and by the cooling of air, caused the frozen water to fall back to the surface. Their attempt to destroy our new world caused the top and bottom of our new world to freeze into polar ice caps, and the interaction of cold with the heat of Elker’s fires which caused our new world to spin, caused our new world to wobble and created seasons of cold and seasons of heat.

And Great God smiled. Even in their rebellion, Elker and Guengle add to the beauty and wonder of our creation.

We understood, and new thoughts came to us from our Father. We went to our new world, and with the aid of our Father, we sealed Elker and his followers inside the core of our globe. Elker and his followers raged, but could not leave the prison we had created for them. Again, with Great God’s help, we trapped Guengle and her followers in the polar ice caps, some of them north, but most of them south with Guengle. Guengle and her followers raged, but could not leave the prison in which we encased them.

We watched for an age, contemplating the beauty and motions of our new world. At the end of the age, we remembered other forms we had created in our original song, and Great God nodded; we went down to our new globe again, raising our voices in new, subtle harmonies, and trees sprang up from the surface of our new globe, their varieties as varied as our voices and covering our new world. We continued our song, and plants sprang up beneath the trees, some growing into bushes, some producing flowers, some growing into small trees that produced a multitude of fruits, the trees, plants, shrubs, and flowers as varied as our voices. And Great God smiled; for another age, we contemplated what our voices had brought into being.

From their prisons, Elker and Guengle raged, and their rages rose to the surface, descended from the poles, burning and freezing the trees and plants. And again, their rebellions added to the beauty of our new world, causing some trees in the cold to turn brilliant colors and drop their leaves, carpeting the ground. Other forms of trees grew thick needles to withstand the Guengle’s cold, new forms arising from Guengle’s rebellion. At the equator of our new world, the heat of Elker caused rapid growth, and greater rain; new trees and plants grew, bearing fruit and flowers, which came from Elker’s rebellion. And Great God smiled; we paused to contemplate our new world for an age, caught in the wonder of so many new forms.

After another age of contemplation, Great God spoke: You have done well, my children, but there is more you can do.

New thoughts and new, more subtle harmonies came into our minds; we descended to our new world and began to sing new songs. The intricate weaving of our voices filled the rivers, lakes, and oceans with a multitude of creatures that swam beneath the surface, painted with a myriad of bright colors; our voices filled the skies over our new world with creatures that flew through the air, with pleasant voices that echoed our songs; our voices covered the dry land with creatures that walked, ran, crawled, and burrowed. As before Elker and Guengle raged from their prisons, and the raging of fire and ice across our world added more creatures to the waters, the air, and the earth, creatures that could survive the cold of the poles and the heat of the equator; and we again marveled at how their rebellious voices added to rather than taking from the beasts, birds, and fishes, offspring of our thoughts and voices. And Great God smiled; we paused again to contemplate our new world for an age, watching the beasts, birds, and fishes multiply and fill our new world with life.

When the age of contemplation passed, Great God spoke: Again, you have done well, my children, but there is more to do, and it will be our last effort before you enter and dwell in the world we have made.

New thoughts came into our minds, and we returned, at first separating into our individual aspects. Over the water some sang, over the salty oceans, their melodies and harmonies intricate; new forms emerged, the wedorem were born, creatures of salt water, and some of this group went down into these new creatures, giving them life and thought. A second group of water sang over the lakes and rivers, and new forms were born, the pludorem, creatures of fresh water, and some of this group went down into these creatures, giving them life and thought. Over the earth some sang, their melodies and harmonies intricate; new forms emerged, the themen were born, creatures of earth, and some went down and into these new creatures, giving them life and thought. Over the air some sang, their melodies and harmonies intricate; new forms emerged, the awem, creatures of air, and some of this group went down into these new creatures, giving them life and thought. Those of us who remained sang in combination with other aspects: earth and air combined, creating the awemem, some of each group inhabiting these forms, giving them life and thought. Water and air combined, creating the vedem, some of this group inhabiting these forms, giving them life and thought. Earth and water combined, creating the wethem, our own ancestors, and some of this group inhabited these forms giving them life and thought. The many of us who remained contemplated our work, and Great God smiled, then spoke.

My children, you will all have your turn to enter these last forms, some sooner, some later.

While we watched, Elker and Guengle walked among our new creations, our brothers and sisters who had gone down to live in our new world, capturing some of them and warping them with fire and ice. With fire, Elker turned awem into aperum, vedem into wedaterem, and wethem into purem. With ice, Guengle turned themen into ghelem, wedorem into morgle, pludorem into pleugle, and awemem into preusawem, these last failing to survive. Into these warped creatures Elker and Guengle sent their followers, to give them life and thought, instilling them